


That’s My Sweater

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-19
Updated: 2003-08-19
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:06:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : Full Circle (S6), Fire and Water (S1)SUMMARY : Response to challenge about Daniel’s cream-colored sweater





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

That's My Sweater

***** 

Never a dull moment at the SGC. Take this one, for instance. He stepped on the elevator at Level 19, pressed the button for Level 28 and suddenly found himself in a stalled elevator having a conversation with Daniel. A Daniel who was very insistent that he, Jack, drop everything and make a trip to Abydos to look for something called the "eye of Ra." 

At the moment Daniel was explaining - again - why he himself couldn't undertake this particular task. 

"All I know is what Oma has taught me. Ascension doesn't make you all knowing or all powerful. It is just the beginning of the journey. The point is, if I were to help you, if I were to take any action to help you, Oma would step in and stop me herself to avoid drawing the wrath of the others If they wanted to, they could stop everything she's been trying to do for a long, long time." 

Lights flickered and the elevator gave off mechanical rumblings that seemed to signal imminent movement. Apparently, stopping and starting elevators didn't come under the heading of 'action that changed human existence.' 

"I can't jeopardize that," Daniel finished. 

Jack nodded. But there was one thing that still bothered him. 

"You do realize that's _my_ sweater you keep showing up in." 

***** 

**Six years earlier**   


Jack led the way to the gate. The others followed a few paces behind, Daniel trudging along wet and shivering despite the volcanic heat of Nem's planet. After the first burst of conversation about the memorial service and the need for a lot of unpacking Daniel fell silent. He began to feel he was walking in a fog. Voices, movement, images - everything - seemed distant. Events occurred in a bewildering haze. Arriving on the other side of the gate, he was aware that each person he encountered seemed unaccountably pleased to see him. In the infirmary, he knew Janet was talking to him, performing the routine exam. He thought he responded when necessary. Even the hot shower and the dry clothes Jack retrieved from Daniel's own locker failed to penetrate his confusion. There was a de-briefing with General Hammond and the rest of his team, but Daniel had no idea what words came out of his mouth. He heard the deep rumble of General Hammond's voice telling Jack to take him home. 

So now they were at Jack's house. 

"I'm gonna go change," Jack said once they were inside. "You okay?" 

Daniel nodded. He stood in the middle of Jack's living room uncertain and still gripped by the day's confusion. His eyes moved around the room, taking in familiar objects - the couch, Jack's medals on the mantle, the chessboard on the coffee table. The images distorted, changed colors, shifted places. The air grew cold. Daniel frowned. His heart began to race. This wasn't right. Where was he? Where were his friends? He spun around unable to recognize his surroundings. He didn't know where he was. Confusion became panic as he stumbled forward, crying out in fear. 

"Daniel!" A voice called his name. "Daniel, answer me." 

Arms circled him, pulling him close. Instinctively Daniel mimicked the gesture, wrapping his own arms around whoever this was offering comfort. Struggling to control his panic, he fisted his hands in the folds of his savior's clothing. 

"Daniel," the voice said gently. 

Daniel's breath slowed. He knew the voice. Nothing else made sense, but he knew the voice. Whispering, he spoke the name. 

"Jack." 

"Yeah, Daniel," Jack answered. "It's me." 

Daniel's heart slowed. The room shifted one more time, dropping objects back into familiar shapes and places. 

"You okay?" 

"I - I got - I got lost, Jack." 

Jack rubbed comforting hands across Daniel's back. 

"You know where you are now?" 

"Yeah - it's gone. I'm okay." 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah." 

Jack nodded. 

"You gonna let go of me?" he asked a moment later. 

"Oh, sorry," Daniel apologized, releasing his death grip on Jack. He stepped back. "Uh, nice sweater," he said sheepishly, making a show of smoothing the wrinkles from Jack's soft, cream colored sweater. Jack grinned. 

"Thanks. Had it forever. Hardly ever wear it. I'm gonna fix something to eat. Sit down, relax." He pushed Daniel down on the couch and handed him the TV remote. 

Daniel stretched out on the couch and flicked on the TV. When Jack returned with sandwiches and drinks a few minutes later Daniel was watching a black and white movie starring someone he had a vague idea might be famous. 

"What're we watchin'?" Jack asked as he passed off a plate of sandwiches. 

"No idea. Some movie." 

"Ah." 

Jack settled himself on the floor, leaning his back against the couch and watched for a few minutes. 

"Daniel," he finally said, "this is Jimmy Stewart. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington." 

He seemed to think Daniel ought to have known this without being told. 

"Oh." 

"Oh? You know Bellus from ancient Babylon, but you don't know Jimmy Stewart?" He sounded faintly amused. 

"I guess," was the only answer Daniel could think of. 

They finished their sandwiches and watched the rest of the movie in good-natured silence. Occasionally, the fog of panic inexplicably settled on Daniel again and his hand spasmodically reached for Jack's shoulder, fisting a bunch of the thick sweater in his fingers. Each time, without a word, Jack's own hand came up to cover Daniel's until his fingers relaxed, then released the sweater and finally withdrew again. 

Though it was only early evening when the movie concluded, Daniel was nearly asleep. Jack sent him upstairs to the guest room. He crawled into bed without hesitation.   


///// 

He walked for hours through the passages of the pyramid, glancing in the chambers to look at the treasures stored there. Then it was time to go back. He turned around. The pyramid and its passages disappeared. He stood in the middle of an unfamiliar village street. 

He walked. He needed to get back. Merchant stalls blocked his way. He turned down another road; it led him back to the place it started. A river flowed down the street. He started to run. 

"What's the rush?" Jimmy Stewart called out. 

"I have to catch the ferry," he answered without thought or understanding. 

"No ferry here." 

"Yes, yes," he insisted. "It's just over - " he pointed. But when he looked it was gone. He whirled around. No ferry. No river. He couldn't get back that way. 

He ran again, stumbling through a fish market, overturning barrels of mackerel. 

"Where are you going?" the fish merchant shouted. 

"Back!" 

"Back where?" 

"I just - I have to." 

He didn't know. But he had to run - get somewhere. Up ahead he saw a man kneeling on the ground scrabbling in the dirt with a little brush. He recognized the man, would never in all his life forget those strong shoulders, that unruly dark hair and focused posture. 

"Dad!" 

He ran. His father turned toward him, smiled at the sight of him, and dropped the brush as he stood up. 

"Dad, please - you have to help me." He threw himself into his father's arms. 

"Danny? What's wrong little one?" 

"Dad - I - I'm lost." 

"Lost?" 

"I don't - I can't find where I'm supposed to be. I can't get back. It's not safe here and I don't know where to go." 

His father smiled at him - that blessed smile that always reassured him Daddy had all the answers. 

"I think this is what you're looking for," his father said gently, reaching for Daniel. 

"No, Dad! I haven't lost anything. I'm lost - and, and I'm scared. Dad. Please, I'm scared." 

But his father held him at arms' length and grasped his clothes. 

"This is what you're looking for," he repeated. "You've had it the whole time." 

He looked down to see his father grasping the sweater he was wearing. He frowned. This wasn't his sweater. It was Jack's sweater. He was wearing Jack's cream sweater. He looked up at his father. His father was smiling. 

"You've had it the whole time." 

///// 

Daniel's eyes flew open, but without panic or fear. He knew exactly where he was. The room was dark; just a sliver of moonlight filtered through the curtains. The warm weight of blankets cocooned him. From somewhere else in the house he heard movement - cupboards opening and closing, dishes clanking against one another. He closed his eyes. Yes, he knew exactly where he was - in bed in the guest room of Jack's house. The clock read 10:35 p.m. He had slept a few hours before the dream woke him. Jack was in the kitchen cleaning up, putting an end to the day. 

A few minutes later Daniel heard Jack's footsteps on the stairs. Jack would stick his head into Daniel's room before going to his own, and the knowledge comforted Daniel. But Jack would worry if he thought Daniel was still awake so Daniel turned away from the door and pretended sleep. 

There was nothing to worry about. 

***** 

**Present Day**   


Jack shook his head in amazement as Daniel walked into the kitchen with his arms firmly wrapped in a self hug. For somebody who didn't remember who he was, Daniel certainly had the mannerisms down. 

"This is a nice house," Daniel said. "Do I, uhm, do I come here a lot?" 

"All the time," Jack answered. 

Daniel nodded and then pointed toward the counter where Jack was dumping hard-boiled eggs and onions into a huge bowl of boiled potatoes. A little mayo, mustard and celery salt and they'd have the world's best potato salad. It would be better if it could sit overnight, but no one wanted to delay Daniel's welcome home party for potato salad. 

"That seems like an awful lot of that." 

"Lot of people coming, Daniel." 

"I won't know most of them," he said uncertainly. 

"Daniel, you know _all_ of them. You just don't remember. Don't worry. Things are coming back, aren't they?" 

"Some," Daniel acknowledged. 

"Here, try this." Jack handed him a spoonful of potato salad. 

"Good," Daniel pronounced. 

"Perfect," Jack corrected. He traded the spoon for a mug of coffee and noticed a shiver run through Daniel as he handed him the cup. Maybe that hug didn't have anything to do with self-doubt. "You cold?" he asked. 

"Yeah, a little," Daniel admitted. 

"Go find something warmer while I finish this up. Upstairs, first door on the right," he added when Daniel's expression reminded him that Daniel didn't remember the house. "Bottom two drawers are full of sweatshirts." 

As Daniel disappeared up the stairs Jack put the potato salad in the frig and ticked another task off his mental list. He needed to fire up the grill soon, but he would wait until Daniel came back. Whatever self-assurance Daniel might have gained from being ascended seemed to have deserted him along with his memories and Jack wasn't ready to leave him on his own for long. Speaking of which, how long did it take to pull a sweatshirt out of a drawer? 

Jack counted to ten, but Daniel hadn't reappeared so Jack went after him. When he walked into the bedroom, Daniel was kneeling on the floor in front of two open dresser drawers. Several piles of sweatshirts were scattered on the floor. Daniel was reaching back into the bottom drawer. 

"Daniel?" 

Daniel looked up and seemed surprised to realize he had emptied Jack's dresser. 

"Oh." 

"Looking for something in particular?" Jack asked. 

"No, not really. Just, just something warm. Comfortable." 

"Something wrong with those?" Jack gestured to the assortment of sweatshirts on the floor. 

"I guess not. They just didn't seem . . ." He trailed off and plucked a navy blue Air Force sweatshirt off one pile. Setting it aside, he started putting the others back into the drawer with an air of disappointment that nearly made Jack laugh. 

As Daniel put clothes away Jack opened a cedar chest at the end of his bed, dug to the bottom and pulled out a sweater he hadn't worn in years. 

"Daniel?" 

"Yeah?" 

"How 'bout this?" he asked, holding out the cream pullover. 

Daniel's eyes lit up - and Jack would just bet he didn't even know why. 

"Jack, that's great. Do you mind?" 

Jack grinned. "Nope. You wear it all the time." 

> © April 18, 2003 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television, Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd. Partnership. This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and solely meant for entertainment. All other characters, the story idea and the story itself are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



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